Backstage Pass
by ishkhanuhi
Summary: After a concert, Hiro bumps into an unlikely "fan" in his dressing room. Written for KusoGaki . PWP, depravity - as is my specialty.


**[Rating]**: NC-17

**[Warnings]**: masturbation, oral, male/male, PWP basically

****[Pairings]****: Tatsuha x Hiro

**[Disclaimer]**: characters belong to Maki Murakami and co.

**[Author's Note]**: This was inspired by my own experience seeing L'Arc-en-Ciel in concert a couple years back, and watching Hyde lug around a huge boner through the entire concert. It had to be done. :)

Written for my love, Johna (KusoGaki), who wanted me to try this pairing. There might be a sequel, I've decided.

Tell me what you think! Otherwise, enjoy yourselves. :)

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><p><strong>Backstage Pass<strong>

The door whispered shut, slowly muffling the swell of screams and cheers from down the hall like a receding tide. Pulling off his leather, fingerless gloves, Hiro Nakano moved from the door to listen to his vocalist, Shuichi, animatedly chatting on the couch, straining because their hearing had been blown out by the concert. On the other end of Bad Luck's dressing room, Suguru slumped into an armchair, legs crossed, while he finished off an energy drink from a complimentary fridge of stocked items. Hiro made his way over to the synth player, having tossed his gloves aside, and zealously clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Nice show, buddy!"

Suguru spilled some drink down the front of his vest, not expecting such a spirited greeting, and only glared in response.

Giggling and coming down from an adrenaline high, Shuichi shot up like a dart to his knees and flipped around to face his bandmates. A cloud of glitter fell from his hair onto the couch like a sprinkling of snow. "That was so awesome! The crowd was really full of energy!" His voice resonated a little louder than necessary.

Hiro nodded, mirroring Shuichi's expression. At least someone shared his enthusiasm. "You were brilliant tonight, Shuichi! Those words reached my soul!"

"Oh, Hiro!" Shuichi's eyes welled with tears, and in his excitement fell off the end of the couch. He and Hiro both laughed, though they also earned a snort from Suguru. It was progress!

Hiro finally crossed the room, shaking his head, leaving his two mismatched bandmates to entertain one another as he disappeared into the lavatory. And inside, the guitarist paused to enjoy the sound of _silence_. For several days, they'd been running only on nerves, high spirits, and exhaustion in preparation for their massive concert at this venue. It'd been fun while it lasted, but now _everything_ hurt, and he was blissfully envisioning the prospect of sleep.

Hiro unzipped his fly, withdrawing his half-hard cock between the folds of too-tight leather pants. The constraint had been killing him all afternoon during rehearsals, and he sighed contentedly, now holding the abused flesh in his palm, giving it much-needed attention.

Flicking long strands of red hair over his shoulder, matted with sweat and glitter and melting hairspray, Hiro relieved himself, but the puzzling issue still remained—

Was this only _his_ problem? He'd often watched Suguru and Shuichi during concerts to gauge their reactions. Suguru was engrossed with his work, barely throwing a glance at his bandmates or even the audience during performances, but their synth player couldn't be any more relaxed on stage. Shuichi, on the other hand, unleashed a blitzkrieg of energy behind the microphone, and Hiro was certain Shuichi would suffer similar repercussions as passionate as he was about his music, but even _he_ appeared to show no interest beyond that. So why was Hiro the only one getting boners at concerts?

And it happened every time. Hiding slim hips behind a glinting guitar, Hiro became unfathomably aroused each concert. He gritted his teeth now, letting his hand give his cock an appreciative stroke. It was _humiliating._

But it wasn't that he was getting by on little satisfaction. Ayaka left him plenty gratified, and he often worried she'd get the wrong idea if he continually showed up to greet her after the show with an erection, considering the throng of half-clothed fan girls that grappled at his ankles and screamed his name in every audience.

They weren't the reason. No, Hiro wasn't _sure _of the reason. He'd been able to hide his dilemma successfully so far, but he was sure if Shuichi found out, he'd say Hiro was an exhibitionist or something equally disgracing—

Grumbling to himself, Hiro continued his feather-light strokes, lowering the zipper to his leather pants so he could take the whole length in his palm. Gripping the base, he pumped himself, painstakingly slowly; he knew he wouldn't last long anyway, and if he made it really good now, he'd be relaxed for the rest of the evening.

_Was_ he an exhibitionist? It felt like such a… dirty word. He blanched, and set the thought aside. He'd always just considered himself—_normal. _Only Shuichi was into that sort of thing, from what he'd accidentally heard over late-night phone conversations between his friend and the other's drunk beau.

When Hiro began to teeter on the apex of his release, he heard a sudden crash from behind the bathroom door. He promptly leapt away, startled, hands in the air as if caught in the act. But taking a good look around with his heart pounding in his ears, he saw that there was no one in sight, no one that came to investigate his whereabouts.

Had Shuichi done something stupid again? Couldn't Suguru handle him on his own by now? Regretfully, Hiro shoved himself back into his pants and made his way for the door. He figured he'd need to do some damage control now, and was only hoping to find their dressing room still in one piece.

What he saw was bewildering. Bad Luck's dressing room was completely in tact, but Shuichi and Suguru were nowhere to be found. Frowning, Hiro took a few steps before calling out their names. Was this another practical joke?

He was turning around to check the hallway when he ran into somebody with a sickening thud of foreheads.

"OW!" the other person wailed, jumping back and covering his head in his hands.

Hiro pressed a hand to his head as well, peering out from under his fingers to find Eiri Yuki's little brother, Tatsuha, doubled over in front of him. "Tatsuha-kun?"

Looking up, Tatsuha tenderly prodded his brow and said, "Oh, hey. Nakano-san, is it?"

"Hiro's just fine."

Tatsuha grinned. "It's been a while, eh, pretty boy?" He pulled out a laminated backstage pass from his hind pocket and casually slipped it around his neck.

Hiro quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah, it's been some time since I last saw ya." He gestured to the pass. "Hunting for Ryuichi still?"

Springing forward, Tatsuha gripped the front of Hiro's fishnet muscle shirt in both his fists. "Yes! Do you know where he is? I've looked everywhere with no luck!"

"Sorry, I wouldn't have any idea. This is Bad Luck's dressing room."

"Ugh, this isn't my day."

"What caused that crash I heard a second ago?"

"Ah, I think Shuichi was trying to break down the door to get somewhere."

"Would you happen to know where Shu and Suguru went, then?"

Tatsuha sauntered around the room as if he expected Ryuichi to show up anyway. "I saw them going down the hall, saying something about an interview or group photo-shoot or what-have-you."

"What? Why didn't they come get me?"

"You're asking the wrong person." Suddenly, Tatsuha twirled, a devious grin tugging at his lips. "Perhaps they thought when you finished up in there, you'd go join them."

Hiro opened his mouth to intelligently respond, but could only sputter, "U-um, say what?"

Tatsuha leaned forward, hooking his index finger into one of Hiro's belt loops. "Leather pants hide nothing, my friend."

The guitarist swatted Tatsuha away, moving toward the door. Tatsuha's hands were immediately on his shoulders, pulling him back. "Wait! You can't go out there like that!"

"Like what? Leave me alone! I said I don't know where Ryuichi is!"

"I don't know about you, but I would personally be embarrassed if a photographer got some pics of my hard-on, dude."

Flipping around with his eyes narrowed, Hiro at once realized his blunder, because Tatsuha now pinned him to the door, the monk's hands on either side of his head. "What hard-on?" he deadpanned, but he lost credibility behind a furious blush.

Tatsuha's mouth curled into a knowing smile. "What hard-on, indeed."

"Tatsuha-kun, I hardly have time for gam—"

The younger male gripped Hiro's chin and suddenly lunged forward to crush the guitarist's salty lips against his own, clinking teeth. He moaned into Hiro's mouth, blinking eyes open and finding Hiro's crazed eyes staring back at him in shock. He felt Hiro starting to pull away, but he wasn't quite finished, and maneuvered one hand behind the other's squirming head to tangle in long hairs and deepen their hasty kiss.

But with dwindling adrenaline, Hiro was still stronger, and shoved Tatsuha away while twirling free of his trapped corner. "W-what are you doing?" he coughed into the back of his hand.

Tatsuha only smirked, undeterred, and glided over to lower Hiro's hand from his face. "You're so cute, pretty boy!" And he flung both arms haphazardly around Hiro's shoulders while the older teen tried to wriggle free.

"Stop it! Gods, you always try to do this! Every time I see you!"

"Clearly because you're so cute, yeah?"

"T-Tatsuha-kun, wait!"

Tatsuha didn't wait, ducking his head to nibble one exposed collarbone above Hiro's shirt, his fingers pulling the collar lower still and exposing more of a milk-white shoulder.

Hiro tensed, his head leaning back to avoid that expert mouth and only meeting traitorous wall. Jaws clenched with his effort to break loose, Hiro placed either of his hands on Tatsuha's shoulders and pushed again, but the monk held fast this time, eyes wild now with Hiro's taste on his lips. The guitarist moved his hand to Tatsuha's forehead and shoved, and was pleased when those nips lost contact with his over-sensitized skin.

Steadfastly, Tatsuha's hands locked around Hiro's waist to keep from being pushed further away. He slipped one knee between either of Hiro's quaking thighs and felt the tremor even through the leather pants as Hiro froze with anticipation.

What was Tatsuha about to do? Hiro stilled his efforts, hands falling to grip the edge of the table where he'd been pinned. He squeezed his eyes shut as that knee was lifted with agonizing slowness.

The young monk, with a roll of hips, applied gentle pressure to the swelling erection that threatened to bust Hiro's zipper. Hiro gasped aloud and arched his chest, stretching fishnet, into Tatsuha's fairly sculpted torso. Tatsuha seized the opportunity and leaned in, their bodies flush until he could feel the guitarist's cock jabbing into his hip. He was delighted to feel Hiro's hips gyrate against him, seeking friction still. And who was he to deny him? Tatsuha mercilessly rubbed his thigh into the unmistakable hardness, feeling heat burn a hole through sweating leather.

"See? Feels better already, doesn't it?" Tatsuha asked under his breath, but Hiro stubbornly bit his lip to keep from responding. The monk slipped one hand between them and cupped Hiro's arousal, applying more pressure that Hiro still desperately sought. "C'mon, rock star. I want to hear your voice."

And when Tatsuha's palm slowly twisted, the stiff leather squeaking between confident fingers, Hiro's silence finally sputtered into a loud moan, and he bonelessly slid onto the table behind him.

Tatsuha claimed his lips again, while he undid the zipper without delay, Hiro's arousal all but falling into his waiting hands. Tatsuha stroked the length slowly, and increased pressure with time until he felt Hiro pivoting up to meet him.

Not one to keep a handsome man waiting, and certain Hiro wasn't going to dart away if he let go, Tatsuha slumped to his knees before the guitarist, his tongue bathing the purpled head throbbing in his palms.

All Hiro perceived was the sensation of white-hot, liquid heat on his cock, and at once he was crying out, clutching the table for much-needed support. Ayaka-chan never did anything like this, no matter how often he'd tried to convince her. And it was no secret that Tatsuha-kun was rather experienced...

Licking up one side, then the other, Tatsuha finally circled his lips around the head of Hiro's cock, meeting the other's eyes briefly with a hint of mischief. And without warning, Tatsuha thoroughly swallowed him in while keeping a hand firmly cinched around the base for pressure. Tatsuha bobbed his head in immediate rhythm. A prominent vein was brutally caressed by his tongue. Experimentally, he used his free hand to gently massage the weight of Hiro's balls in his palm, and Hiro responded with a series of harsh, panting sighs. Encouraged, Tatsuha sped up his mouth's attentions with abandon.

It didn't take long, fortunately or not, for Hiro to feel his body stiffening like a taut wire, and with a soft wail he came hard down Tatsuha's throat. The other gleefully sucked him dry, pleased that Hiro had responded so well. Sitting back on his haunches when Hiro limply clung to the table, the young monk stood up before him with a smile and wiped his lips with pale knuckles.

Hiro groaned, his cheeks flushed under the veil of his hair. Tatsuha casually tucked Hiro's hair behind his ears – hiding wouldn't do – and finally gave him some space by taking a victorious step back.

The older teen quickly zipped himself up, and smoothed his hands over and over his rumpled, mesh shirt even after it'd straightened out. He felt mortified by his actions, but in that moment, he was so entirely relaxed, Hiro wasn't sure he'd care about it tomorrow. Except if maybe Tatsuha –

Tatsuha, however, beat him to the punch. "Ah, sorry to have bothered you, Nakano-san! I only came in here looking for Ryuichi Sakuma-sama. I'll keep looking, but you should really go join your bandmates already. Normal people don't spend that much time in the bathroom, dude."

Hiro was quiet for a while, not even realizing that he'd nodded his head in understanding. "Ah, yeah, I'll do that. Th-thanks, Tatsuha-kun."

"Don't even mention it." Tatsuha turned to leave, as casually as he'd strolled in and completely unbothered.

It disturbed Hiro some, but he knew it was for the best, and he watched Tatsuha twist the doorknob before he was struck with a startling thought. "Wait."

"Hm?" the dark-haired teen looked over his shoulder, eyebrow quirked.

"Tatsuha-kun," Hiro started, looking puzzled, "if you knew they were doing a group interview or photo-shoot down the hall, why did you come here? Clearly, Ryuichi would be down there, don't you think?"

Tatsuha's stoic expression cracked into a generous smile, visibly relieved when Hiro finally caught on. "I lied. I was actually looking for you." He patted his overstuffed jean pocket. "I already got my pictures and autographs of Sakuma-sama. Please, I was the first one in line!"

"You... for _me_?"

"Have a nice rest of your evening, pretty boy!"

And the door whispered shut again, muffling the tornado of thoughts that plagued Hiro's mind.

**-Fin-**

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><p>Love,<p>

Ish :)


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